


Kismet

by BloodEnvy



Category: Alice (TV 2009), Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: What happens after Hatter follows Alice through the looking glass.





	Kismet

“I’ve missed you.”  
  
Alice smiled, answering his whisper with another kiss, her arms tightening around his neck slightly. It was like clinging to him solidified everything that had happened, and brought Wonderland back to life in raging technicolor. Every frustration and interrupted potential was poured into this moment. Hatter’s fingers gripped at her waist, her shirt bunching slightly under his hand. She felt like heat under his hands, her warm, soft body pressed against his. It wasn’t until her mother cleared her throat pointedly that Alice and Hatter… who was now under the alias of David… pulled apart.  
  
“Alice? You know this man?” Carrol’s tone matched her expression; complete and utter astonishment, with a healthy dose of confusion and a dash of way disapproval. Still, Hatter was reluctant to let Alice go, so his hand slipped from her waist to brush against her hand, hat still held in the other. His chest warmed as she caught hold of him, his suddenly sure fingers immediately interlacing with hers at the affirmation. The sensation grew as her other hand moved to cling to his forearm, gravitating her frame towards him.  
  
“Mom, yes… yes, I know him.” Alice said breathlessly, groping for the name her mother had called out before. “I know David.”  
  
“And you failed to mention this?” Carrol turned her gaze on Hatter, and he swallowed, offering her a sheepish smile.  
  
“I, uh, wasn’t certain I should. Didn’t know if she’d be happy to see me.” Alice’s fingers squeezed his. “Was a bit shocked to see her there, really.”  
  
“Hatter… David is a friend… an old friend.” Alice offered, “We haven’t seen each other…” She met his eyes, her voice more definite. “In a while. Feels like forever.”  
  
Hatter smiled at her, moved as though he was going to kiss her again. He stopped himself, and Alice turned her attention back to her mother.  
  
“That’s hardly an answer, Alice.” Carrol told her. She turned back to Hatter. “And you just found her there, completely by chance.”  
  
“That’s right.”  
  
“And what about Jack?”  
  
Alice exhaled. “Jack’s… Jack’s engaged. To someone else.”  
  
“He’s what?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter, Mom.” Alice said calmly, a picture of self-assured serenity. Like a picture on a postage stamp. “He’s gone.”  
  
“But, Alice…”  
  
“Have you thanked Hat… David, yet, Mom?”  
  
“Yes…” It took a moment for Carrol to realign with the conversation. “Yes, of course I have. I just didn’t expect you to… thank him quite the way you did.”  
  
A blush burned Hatter’s cheeks and throat, his belly still in knots. His thumb brushed against the back of her hand. How could hands that dealt such damage to a deck of Cards feel like silk?  
  
He realized then that the lull in the conversation was stretching to the precipice of awkwardness, and he cleared his throat.  
  
“Tea?” He snatched up the one word he knew could save you from any situation. It was a little odd to be offering it up in someone else’s home, but whether leaves or emotions, tea tended to ease the tension in most situations. “Shall I put the kettle on?”  
  
“Let me.” Carrol interrupted. “And I want you to explain, Alice. Everything.” The mother gave them both a measured look that could have rivaled the Queen of Hearts before she left the room, shoes clicking on hardwood floors.  
  
“I am so glad to see you.” Alice spun into him as soon as her mother was gone, flinging her arms around him in another hug. He banded his arms around her diminutive frame lightly, his nose buried in the raven hair that whispered of apple blossom and lilies of the valley and vanilla. He sighed into her ear, and Alice withdrew reluctantly.  
  
Her hands slid to rest by his elbows; his palms alighted on her ribs. “How did you…”  
  
“A favor from your boyfriend.” Hatter replied, “Gave me money, told me where to go for these,” He touched his jacket. “Even got me one of these.” He pulled a card from his back pocket; an ID declaring him David Hatter. “Apparently, they’re important.”  
  
“They are,” There was the whisper of a laugh in Alice’s voice. She looked down at him, taking in his new clothes. “You look… like an oyster.”  
  
“What do you think?”  
  
“I… I kind of liked the Wonderland more.” Her smile widened. “You still have your hat.  
  
Hatter smiled, a crooked grin that lit his eyes and he held it up in affirmation. “Almost left it behind. Wasn’t sure if it was very oyster.”  
  
“But I like it. It’s very Hatter.” She replied easily, and his smile widened.  
  
There was a pause before she spoke again. “How long…?”  
  
“Three months.” Hatter said quietly, “You were gone three months.”  
  
Alice nodded, and while their hands didn’t lose their places, a fog of awkwardness fell over them, neither of them willing to look away, both too uncomfortable to meet the other’s eye.  
  
The singing of the kettle broke through the haze, and Alice pulled out of his arms to lead him to the table.  
  
* * *  
  
“Three months.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“It was hours for me.”  
  
“Lucky.”  
  
Alice met his rueful expression with one of her own. They sat at the table where her mother had left them more than ago, slightly more content with their quickly-fabricated backstory; she’d at some point brought out cheese and crackers, the plate of remnants pushed to the side. She’d given the reason of an early day the next, and excused herself to give them tactful privacy. The two of them hadn’t moved from their seats, and while Alice leaned forward in hers, elbow on the wood, Hatter slouched back. Alice’s fingertips traced invisible patterns across the table top.  
  
“Are you going to stay?” Now, there was a question.  
  
“Well, that’s not up to me, is it?”  
  
Alice raised a brow, “Jack…”  
  
“No, not Jack. I couldn’t give a toss what his Majesty decrees.” Hatter sat forward, closing a considerable amount of distance between them. Hesitant, he moved his hand to cover her own. “You, Alice. You want me to stay, I’m yours.”  
  
Alice bit her smiling lip, ducking her head. “Oh.”  
  
His thumb rubbed against the spot where hers joined her hand, just past the knuckle. The rumble of thunder had announced a storm an hour ago, and the comfortable rhythm of rain against the window was punctuated only occasionally by more.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“We’ve established that.”  
  
Alice chuckled. A wonderful sound. The clock on the wall chimed the hour, and her eyes flew to it when she counted ten. They’d been there longer than she’d thought. “It’s late.”  
  
Hatter’s hand withdrew a little too quickly, as though that proclamation was a quickly closed door. “Right. I better toddle off, then. Let you get some shut eye.”  
  
He stood, and Alice straightened. “Where are you staying?”  
  
He shrugged. “Don’t know yet. His worship mentioned something called a ‘backpacker’.”  
  
“You haven’t got a room?”  
  
“I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Most places will have closed desks by now. And getting a cab in the rain is like winning the lottery.”  
  
“What the hell is a cab?”  
  
Alice stood, her mind decidedly made up. “You can stay here.”  
  
Hatter began to wave her concern away with that well-practiced nonchalance, but a crack of thunder halted his hand. “Don’t suppose I get the hammock this time?”  
  
“No, but you can share the bed.” Alice told him. It was the same cavalier tone she’d used a few days earlier… or, yesterday... when offering apples, and Hatter’s eyes lit with surprise.  
  
It took a few moments for him to formulate anything in the realm of proper thought. “I’m happy on the couch, sweet. Your mom…”  
  
“If she bothers to check in, will see us both, asleep, fully clothed and respectable.” There’s something in her tone that suggests to Hatter that she is setting guidelines for the both of them. Barriers. The idea of sharing a bed with his Alice, even if it were in the most platonic of manners, was a heady elixir to swallow.  
  
“Alice…”  
  
“It’s late.” She said, holding out her hand, “Please?”  
  
There’s barely pause before he nods. “Anything when you say please.”  
  
She smiled as his hand found hers, and turned to lead him to her room.  
  
* * *  
  
Hatter paused in the doorway, eyes sliding over her belongings as if he thirsted for them, drinking in every little detail that told him about Alice. It was neat, organized, ever little knick knack had its place. The only thing out of place was a worn copy of… he smirked. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.  
  
And what adventures they were. Daring battles, damsels who could handle their own distress, aerial escape. It really was something out of a story.  
  
Their story.  
  
Alice pulled Hatter out of his musings with a quiet call to attention. “Hatter.”  
  
His gaze snapped to hers where she stood by the bed. “Yes?”  
  
“Mind turning for a second?”  
  
“Right, sorry. Right…” Hatter pivoted on the spot awkwardly, hands dithering by his sides. By the Slithy Toves, he wished he hadn’t left his hat at the table. A hat was useful in many respects: an attractive add to any outfit, protection from the sun, or to wring the rim in one’s hands when suddenly overcome with a situation he’d dreamed but never expected.  
  
Alice cleared her throat after a moment. Her sweater was gone, the deep purple of her tank top complementing her pale skin and the curve of her breast. Her dark hair was still loose, and she sat in the bed, the blankets pulled neatly over her thighs. A pair of thin shorts peeked out from above the duvet.  
  
Patting the other side of the bed, she gave him one of those special Alice smiles. “You joining me or what?”  
  
“Ah, yes. Right, sorry.” Hatter tugged off his jacket before hesitating, unsure of where to put it. He decided, after a moment, to lie carefully over the foot board of her bed. He wanted nothing more to hold Alice close and to never let her away again, but there was something so domestic and… trusting to be invited into her bed for nothing but sleep that addled him.  
  
That was it, he realized. She really does trust me.  
  
He felt as though his heart had swollen in his chest, thudding its ever-so-slightly heightened rhythm against his ribs.  
  
Alice watched him in quiet amusement, chin in her hand, elbow on her bended knee. There was something so endearing about Hatter when he seemed uncertain and vulnerable. His hand wavered by the buckle of his belt, but he decided against it. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Hatter, it’s okay.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “Look, can’t see a thing. Now, come on. I miss you.”  
  
With her hand over her face she missed the expression that lit Hatter’s face at those last three words, but he soon hastened to unfasten and remove his jeans before sliding in beside her in boxer briefs and his tee shirt. The bed, while bigger than the cot Charlie had bequeathed Alice, it wasn’t built for two, and Hatter shifted inelegantly to find a position that was intimate, comfortable and respectful.  
  
The two of them lay together in mirrored positions, facing each other, one hand tucked under their heads and their knees bent to brush against the others. There was barely any light; Hatter’s eyes caught the soft curves of her face in the dim, the faintest sparkle of her eyes.  
  
She was the first to break the silence, her voice muted, almost husky. “I can’t believe you’re here.”  
  
He touched fingertips to her wrist, trailing his hand slowly up her bare arm to her shoulder. “I’m findin’ it hard to believe, myself.”  
  
Alice shivered at his touch; there was so much between them, filling the sheets. “Why David?”  
  
“Hmm?” Hatter’s eyes were following his hand as it returned at a glacial pace back down to her hand. As it did his hand flattened against her skin, letting the palm of his hand run smoothly along her. How could he possibly be allowed to touch her?  
  
“David Hatter. Why David?”  
  
“It’s from a book.” He said a light, matter-of-fact tone. “By a man named Dickens.”  
  
“Charles Dickens?” Alice elaborated, “As in David Copperfield?”  
  
“I suppose.”  
  
“Wonderland has Dickens?”  
  
“We have all manner of things.” Hatter replied, his fingers briefly skimming her waist. Her top had ridden up, and the touch against her bare skin made the small of her back buzz. “Tea and biscuits, roasted borogrove, flying flamingos and girls in very wet dresses.”  
  
“The water was yours. The girl wasn’t.”  
  
“I suppose she wasn’t, no.”  
  
“Not at that time.”  
  
Her meaning took Hatter by surprise. She was doing that a lot. “Alice?”  
  
She shifted closer to him awkwardly, meeting his lips in a gentle but purposeful kiss. Hatter returned it slowly at first, before his hand slid up her arm to cup her face and when she let out a tiny, contented sigh, he slipped his tongue between her lips.  
  
Alice returned the kiss in turn, her body pressed against his and their legs tangling together. Her hand slipped over his hip to his waist and her fingers twisted in his shirt, urging him closer. She was wrapped in the scent of him, the scent of her time in Wonderland by his side. Bergamot from Earl Grey tea, the scent of old books, of something spicy and the smell of wood. His stubble scratched lightly at her chin, but she barely noticed. His lean body was warm against hers, his thigh between both her own, pressing against her.  
  
“Alice…” he whispered as they separated incrementally to breathe, his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against hers. “Alice, Alice, Alice…”  
  
She met his mouth again, breath catching and a whimper on her lips. Her fingers moved from his side to slide through his hair, mussing it into a more familiar fashion. She tugged on it as he nipped gently at her lower lip, and his fingers tickled the side of her throat, teasing the skin behind her ear for a moment before moving to her shoulder. When she tugged it again he pushed her shoulder back, rolling them both slightly so he was supported above her, propped up on an elbow and his body laid out beside hers.  
  
Lost in the feel of his lips, Alice wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. Any uncertainty she had over his feelings, over her own, had burnt away in the fire burning in her belly. She tugged him closer, and he straddled her thigh, his knee pressed between her legs.  
  
“Alice…”  
  
He said her name like a prayer. His accent caught on the syllables. She’d been without him for a few hours, most of which she’d been unconscious for. How could she comprehend how he felt, with three months stretched between them?  
  
Hatter’s lips moved to her cheek, kissing his way from the corner of her mouth to her ear. He peppered her jawline with kisses before his mouth moved to her neck, and Alice’s breath caught in a delightful sound as the pressure of his lips increased. “Oh… Hatter…”  
  
His hand tightened its grip on her waist at the whisper of his name.  
  
She cupped his face in her hands, pulling him back to her lips. She slowed it gently, pressing quick, sweet kisses to his mouth.  
  
“I’ve missed you.” The way she repeated lent another meaning, and Hatter smiled warmly, kissing her once more before sobering.  
  
“We don’t have to do anything, Alice.” He assured her, smoothing her shirt carefully. “Just bein’ here is… I’m happy.”  
  
She kissed him again, harder than before, then kissed his cheek and rolled over, her back pressing into his front. She tucked her legs between his, and he slipped an arm around her waist, his fingers splayed over her belly. Her hand covered his, and she smiled, eyes closed, as he tucked his face into her hair.  
  
It wasn’t until she was at the very precipice of sleep when she thought he spoke again in a murmur, but whether it was reality or the first tendrils of a dream she couldn’t tell.  
  
“I love you.”


End file.
